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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354411" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Chanson d'Après-midi (Afternoon Song)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoique tes sourcils méchants<br>Te donnent un air étrange<br>Qui n'est pas celui d'un ange,<br>Sorcière aux yeux alléchants,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Je t'adore, ô ma frivole,<br>Ma terrible passion! <br>Avec la dévotion<br>Du prêtre pour son idole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Le désert et la forêt<br>Embaument tes tresses rudes,<br>Ta tête a les attitudes<br>De l'énigme et du secret.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sur ta chair le parfum rôde<br>Comme autour d'un encensoir; <br>Tu charmes comme le soir<br>Nymphe ténébreuse et chaude.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! les philtres les plus forts<br>Ne valent pas ta paresse,<br>Et tu connais la caresse<br>Ou fait revivre les morts! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tes hanches sont amoureuses<br>De ton dos et de tes seins,<br>Et tu ravis les coussins<br>Par tes poses langoureuses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quelquefois, pour apaiser<br>Ta rage mystérieuse,<br>Tu prodigues, sérieuse,<br>La morsure et le baiser; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tu me déchires, ma brune,<br>Avec un rire moqueur,<br>Et puis tu mets sur mon coeur<br>Ton oeil doux comme la lune.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sous tes souliers de satin,<br>Sous tes charmants pieds de soie<br>Moi, je mets ma grande joie,<br>Mon génie et mon destin,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mon âme par toi guérie,<br>Par toi, lumière et couleur! <br>Explosion de chaleur<br>Dans ma noire Sibérie! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Afternoon Song</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though your mischievous eyebrows<br>Give you a singular air,<br>Not that of an angel,<br>Sorceress with Siren's eyes,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I adore you, my madcap, <br>My ineffable passion! <br>With the pious devotion <br>Of a priest for his idol.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your stiff tresses are scented <br>With the desert and forest, <br>Your head assumes the poses <br>Of the enigma and key.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Perfume lingers about your flesh <br>Like incense about a censer; <br>You charm like the evening, <br>Tenebrous, passionate nymph.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! the most potent philtres <br>Are weaker than your languor, <br>And you know the caresses <br>That make the dead live again! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your haunches are enamored <br>Of your back and your bosom <br>And you delight the cushions <br>With your languorous poses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes, to alleviate <br>Your mysterious passion, <br>You lavish, resolutely, <br>Your bites and your kisses; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You tear me open, dark beauty,<br>With derisive laughter,<br>And then look at my heart<br>With eyes as soft as moonlight</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under your satin slippers,<br>Under your dear silken feet,<br>I place all my happiness,<br>My genius and destiny,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My soul brought to life by you <br>By your clear light and color, <br>Explosion of heat <br>In my dark Siberia! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by William Aggeler</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Song of Afternoon </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though your eyebrows' wicked slant<br>Give you an intriguing air<br>Which the angels do not share<br>Sorceress, whose eyes enchant — </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My passion, terrible yet gay, <br>With all my heart I bow before you, <br>With that devotion to adore you <br>That priests to sacred idols pay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Deserts and woods embalmed your hair, <br>Its movements give your head the stigma <br>Of sphinx-like secret and enigma, <br>Both in its attitude and air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As round a censer vapours form,<br>About your flesh the perfumes wander.<br>The selfsame charms you seem to squander<br>As does an evening, dark yet warm,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The strongest philtres cannot craze <br>As does your indolent address <br>And you have mastered a caress <br>Dead corpses from their tombs to raise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your hips are amorous of your breast <br>And of your back: your languorous pose <br>Enchants the cushions where you doze <br>When in their depths you make your nest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes in order to appease<br>Mysterious rages in your soul,<br>You bite and kiss without control.<br>Then with a mocking laugh you tease</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My heart, brown beauty, tearing it: <br>Then over it the light is strewn <br>Of your eye, softer than the moon, <br>Till with its glance my soul is lit.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Underneath your satin shoes, <br>And underneath your silken feet, <br>My joy, my fate, my genius meet <br>To strew the pathway of my muse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My soul is healed, restored and made complete <br>By you, all colour, warmth, and light, <br>In my Siberia a bright <br>Explosion as of tropic heat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Roy Campbell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Afternoon Song</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O witch with sharp alluring eyes, <br>Although your evil eyebrows lend <br>Your strange ways little of the friend <br>And even less of angel skies, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">How I adore your madcap verve, <br>How deeply rooted, my fell passion! <br>I worship you in the rapt fashion <br>Of priests for idols that they serve. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your stiff dense tresses fragrantly <br>Conjure up wilderness and wood, <br>Your head assumes each attitude <br>Of the enigma and its key. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Perfumes cling closely to your flesh <br>As incense to a censer; bright <br>And dusky nymph, you are all Night, <br>Secret and passionate and fresh! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The strongest philter vies in vain <br>Power against your languidness, <br>Too well you know the sweet caress <br>That brings the dead to life again. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your haunches are enamored of <br>Your supple back and surging breast, <br>And when, posed torpidly, you rest, <br>Your cushions taste the charms of love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes to quell the rageful fire <br>Of your mysterious lust, you lavish <br>Obstinate kiss and bite to ravish <br>The throbbing prey of your desire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You rend my body to its seams, <br>Dark beauty, with your mocking laughter, <br>Then fill my heart a moment after <br>With glances soft as the moon's beams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under your satin slippers, see,<br>Under your blest silk feet, I lay<br>The vast sum of my joys today,<br>My genius, my destiny,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My soul, enlivened by your spark <br>Your radiance and color, sweet <br>Explosion of fierce tropic heat <br>Across my chill Siberian dark! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Jacques LeClercq</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Afternoon Song</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though your wicked eyebrows call<br>Your nature into question<br>(Unangelic's their suggestion,<br>Witch whose eyes enthrall) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I adore you still <br>O foolish terrible emotion <br>Kneeling in devotion<br>As a priest to his idol will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your undone braids conceal<br>Desert, forest scents,<br>In your exotic countenance<br>Lie secrets unrevealed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over your flesh perfume drifts<br>Like incense 'round a censor,<br>Tantalizing dispenser<br>Of evening's ardent gifts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No Philtres could compete<br>With your potent idleness:<br>You've mastered the caress<br>That raises dead me to their feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your hips themselves are romanced<br>By your back and by your breasts:<br>By your languid dalliance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now and then, your appetite's <br>Uncontrolled, unassuaged:<br>Mysteriously enraged,<br>You kiss me and you bite.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dark one, I am torn<br>By your savage ways,<br>Then, soft as the moon, your gaze<br>Sees my tortured heart reborn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath your satin shoe,<br>Beneath your charming silken foot.<br>My greatest joy I put<br>My genius and destiny, too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You bring my spirit back,<br>Bringer of the light.<br>Exploding color in the night<br>Of my Siberia so black.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>By Anonymous</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Baudelaire">Charles Baudelaire</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354411" data-title="Chanson d'Après-midi (Afternoon Song) de Charles Baudelaire" data-description="Quoique tes sourcils méchants
Te donnent un air étrange
Qui n'est pas celui d'un ange,
Sorcière aux yeux alléchants,

Je t'adore, ô ma frivole,
Ma terrible passion! 
Avec la dévotion
Du prêtre pour son idole.

Le désert et la forêt
Embaum..."></div>
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